


2:10

by dorking



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breeding, M/M, sympathy heat, this is really heavy dub-con/non-con, trans!Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorking/pseuds/dorking
Summary: Elias has a change of plans, and Martin will be useful in turning the events.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 23
Kudos: 101





	2:10

**Author's Note:**

> Per a request, this is my first ever a/b/o fic so please don't kick me in the shins!  
> Words used to describe Jon’s bits: pussy, slit, cock, chest.  
> Shout out to emeril and everyone else for their help fixing this up!

Elias Bouchard Knows.

Oh, he Knows so many things. But what he Knows _today_ , is that Martin Blackwood has been living at the Institute for a bit too long now. Of course Elias, keeping a fond eye on his employees, knows that Martin has not had much access to routine creature comforts. Well, he hasn’t had access to what would be considered normal necessities either. That is to say, Elias finds himself wonderfully surprised to Know that Martin, unable to take his suppressants, has a heat coming on like a monsoon. Elias doesn’t even need to smell it. Martin doesn’t know it himself yet, but he is keenly aware that this is bound to happen. Martin has considered asking Jon for help, but Jon doesn’t take anything—what with his nonexistent libido. And that is the crux of Elias’ predicament. He wants Jon. He wants Jon folded and begging for his cock while he fucks him without relent or mercy. He wants Jon bred and birthing his kingdom. A much faster route to take, surely, to toss all careful waiting aside. Ever the opportunist he is—Elias concocts something of a plan, and Martin will be a key piece to getting what he desires. It’ll be easy, he thinks, those two fools are in love and yet fail to admit it to themselves. Playing Martin up while he’s needy, well—Elias lets out a dark chuckle and sits back in his chair. Yes, fucking Martin will be good fun too, just as breaking his heart will be once Elias has Jon hot in his hands.

  * \- 1:35



“Rosie, yes. Please, first, arrange to remind me of an appointment I have at 2:10—thank you—perfect. Second, would you be so kind as to summon Martin to my office? Thank you.”

  * -1:45



Martin watches the mix of toothpaste and saliva swirl down into the drain. He looks up to catch a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He looks tired. He _is_ tired. He’s lost count of the number of days he’s been living at work. The number of times he finds himself jumping when something small and silver catches in the light. Martin laments—he'd just wanted to do a good job for once. To extract any small amount of praise from Jon would have meant the world. But now he’s gone and fucked everything up, as usual. Stupid Martin. It’s his fault Prentiss attacked, he brought her here. He put Jon in danger.

Martin grips the sink and looks down, unable to swallow the shame on his face. Jon. Right. That’s something else he’s had to deal with. He’s been terrified of going home even with proof that Jane is gone for good. Jon has been unreasonably understanding, as long as Martin keeps under the radar in case it might cause Elias any trouble. But Martin knows he’s wearing out his welcome. He’ll have to go home sooner or later. He needs to take his suppressants. Things could get embarrassing or worse—dangerous. He’s been playing this fast and loose, but the paranoia has been overwhelming him entirely. He can’t just hope a heat away, and yet—

Martin makes eye contact with himself in the mirror and smooths out his hair. When he exits the bathroom, he meets Rosie in the hall.

  * -1:50



It’s on the way to Elias’ office when Martin feels something pooling in his belly. It’s a warm and threatening feeling of _need_. Martin whimpers faintly and attempts to control himself. He can’t let this get out of hand in front of Elias of all people. He can’t let Elias smell him. He just needs to hold on a little longer.

Martin staggers towards Elias’ office and grabs the door knob. It’s cool against his heated skin. Before he gets a chance to turn the handle Elias speaks from the other side

“Come in, Martin.”

Martin peeks his head through to see Elias shuffling paper at his desk. He hopes that this meeting will be quick. Martin is desperate to get back to the bathroom and…well, handle himself.

“Please, sit.”

Martin takes a seat. He feels his cock throb against his thigh just from the shift of fabric. Elias appears none the wiser, so maybe he isn’t exuding any pheromones yet. Martin squirms.

“Listen, I understand that we’ve experienced a rather unprecedented event… events, here, and I am sympathetic to that, Martin.”

Martin inhales sharply; he’s having trouble listening.

“However, and please know you have not caused me any trouble so far—I do think it is no longer appropriate for you to continue staying here after the threat is gone.”

Martin can feel himself becoming achingly hard, panting under his breath. Elias keeps talking but Martin is only nodding to placate the conversation. As long as Elias doesn’t stand up—

Elias places both palms on the wooden desk and stands.

“This is nothing personal, Martin. I have no issue with you or your work but—goodness, Martin, are you alright?”

Martin whimpers openly in response, causing both of them to direct their gaze to Martin’s tented slacks. Martin’s face flushes a vibrant hue of red and Elias’ eyebrows shoot up.

Martin squawks, “Elias, sorry, you’re right. I’ll go—I’ll go pack my things right now,” much louder than necessary.

Elias’ mouth quirks into a facsimile of a smile, and he maneuvers himself around his desk, all too quickly crowding into Martin’s space.

“I see you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament here, Martin,” he whispers. Elias leans down to sniff Martin’s neck in an overt fashion as possible.

“You’re in heat,” he assesses in a professional tone, as though this was an employee review.

Martin squirms again, able to only nod in response.

“Hard for me, an Alpha, to resist, _pet_. Very irresponsible of you,” Elias chides, breath ghosting up Martin’s pulse point. Gooseflesh trails from Martin’s collar to his ear. He quivers, feeling slick welling at his hole and pre-come beading on his cock. Revulsion creeps up his neck to his brain—Martin knows this is wrong. This is Elias, after all. Martin should have just put the meeting off, skipped out. Instead he willingly came here. To Elias.

When Elias palms Martin through his trousers, he vaguely wonders if he did this to himself on purpose.

Martin cants his hips into the inviting relief of Elias’ touch and Elias bears his hand down in response. At this rate, Martin is going to ejaculate in his pants. He hasn’t experienced a heat—especially with a reciprocating Alpha—in so long. Elias nuzzles his neck. Martin wonders if this is okay; if he was inadvertently seducing his boss’s boss. He wonders if Elias will come inside of him. The thought of that alone—Martin releases a high whine and ruts his groin shamelessly against Elias’ palm. He can feel Elias grinning into his skin.

“Very good, _pet_.”

Martin feels sick with need.

The clock ticks to 2:10.

The phone rings.

Elias stops his ministrations.

Martin is panting with what feels like his whole body. His lungs are on fire.

Elias removes himself from Martin and picks up the phone, “Bouchard, hello,” and waves his hand dismissively towards Martin.

In a state of utter disbelief, Martin shakes his head and extracts himself from the office. Running down to the archives, Martin submits to the thought of taking care of his heat on the cot—everything else be damned. If he can’t be bred, he needs to come.

 _He needs to come_.

Martin knocks into something soft and bony, which makes a thud when it falls to the floor. It’s Jon. That would make two people on Martin’s list of _people-I-wish-were-not-exposed-to-my-boner-today._ The event takes a particular turn towards the unfortunate as Jon pulls Martin down with him. Under regular circumstances this would be no small feat, but Martin, having tripped over Jon’s shoes, lands splayed on top of him. His cock brushes against Jon’s leg and Martin feels his hips stutter involuntarily. Jon groans.

“M–Martin?’

Martin pants, shaky with hooded eyes. In the back of his mind he’s catalogued the mortification of humping his boss’ leg, but it doesn’t stop him from doing it again, chasing that sweet pressure.

Jon is sitting upright now with a look of shock on his face. His cheeks pool with blush. Martin coils back and pulls his jumper down over his crotch. He stutters before standing up, avoiding Jon’s face and rushing past him down the hall. He’ll apologize later if he doesn’t get fired.

“Martin—!” Jon calls from behind him, but Martin flings open the archive door and heads to the backroom with the cot and a lock.

“Martin!” Jon is in close pursuit and it takes everything in Martin not to burst into tears. First Prentiss, now this. Why does he do these things to himself? Martin attempts to slam the door behind him but Jon’s hand clasps over the wood. He’s out of breath.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jon demands. Martin cannot tell if he’s irritated. “Tell me.”

“Please—” Martin keeps trying to pull the door out of Jon’s hands “Just leave me be, please. Jon. Please,” he pleads. Martin’s hands are clammy from his heat and the door slips out of grip. It flies open, leaving his shameful tent on full display. There’s no refuting what he did to Jon in the hall. Martin wishes with all his body and soul to _just fucking evaporate_.

“…oh,” Jon huffs. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate.

“What do you need, Jon? I’m—I am so, so sorry, alright? I—I have to be alone for this,” Martin stammers.

Jon’s mouth thins into a line and he casts his gaze aside. “I’m sorry Martin.”

Martin gapes. “What do you have to apologize for? _I’m_ sorry.”

“…I didn’t want you hiding anything from me. But it looks like I’ve rather put us both in an awkward position.” Jon shuffles, his eyes flitting back to Martin’s trousers, which have a wet spot blooming on the zip. Martin shifts his thighs, cock still aching.

“Do I need permission from you to do this?” Martin asks, on the edge of begging.

Jon keeps staring at his crotch which fixes to make Martin harder, if it were possible.

“No…” Jon replies under his breath, taking a step towards Martin. He leans in and rests his head on Martin’s shoulder “I haven’t seen you like this before. It’s strange, your smell.”

Martin goes stiff as a board as Jon’s hands run down his shirt. It’s not explicitly sexual, more exploratory.

“I feel odd, warm, with you like this,” Jon murmurs. Martin’s cock twitches, stuck between wanting Jon and wanting release. “Why is that?”

Martin’s breath grows uneven, watching Jon’s hand drop lower and lower.

  * -2:25



Jon’s phone buzzes in his pocket, “Ah, it’s Elias.” He pulls himself off Martin and answers, giving Martin a sympathetic look. Jon’s face is oddly flushed when he begins speaking.

“In Artefact Storage? Well—no, I’ll get it myself. Tim and Sasha are out in the field and Martin—he’s, um. Indisposed. Don’t worry.” Jon’s gait is wobbly when he turns to leave.

Before he gets to the door, he turns back to Martin. “I’ll, um. I’ll come back for you.”

Martin nods dumbly while his brain tries to process the interaction. He can’t even entertain the notion that Jon may want to actually be there during this. With him. That he could be interested in… helping. It’s everything Martin has been thinking about the last year. He runs a hand down his face, not sure of what to do. Waiting for Jon to get back could take forever and he needs to rub one out _now_ , lest he attracts more unwanted attention.

  * \- 2:35



Jon is in Artefact Storage looking for a misplaced box of file folders that got stuffed away with some other haunted trash. He keeps thinking back to Martin. It’s unusual for Jon to react so strongly to another’s heat. Actually, he muses, he doesn’t much react to others at all. But Martin, and that needy look of intimate wanting in his eyes, struck him. He pauses a moment and realizes with no small amount of shock: his pussy is wet with slick. It’s a slow burning hotness climbing from inside. Jon claps a hand over his mouth and shudders. He immediately thinks of Martin’s straining cock. Christ, is it possible—is he in heat too? Why?

Jon pictures Martin’s face—their past conversations. Little moments.

Stupid question.

  * \- 2:38



Elias knocks twice and walks into the little backroom of the archive. He already Knows that Martin has forgotten to lock the door. He already Knows the scene he’d find himself entering upon: Martin laid back on the cot, legs spread, playing with his prick and moaning low.

Martin opens his eyes and blinks. “Jon?”

There is a smile in Elias’ response. “I’m afraid not, _pet_.”

Martin jolts up and crosses his legs. “E–Elias!”

Elias laughs. “Come now, don’t be coy. Why don’t we continue where we left off?”

When they make eye contact, Martin shivers. A sharp Alpha musk is rolling off Elias in reaction to Martin’s heat, and Martin _wants_ it. Jerking off alone—or even messing around with Jon—the images swirl around in his head like a zoetrope. They blur into abstraction as Elias looms over him. Thought becomes meaningless as Martin loses himself the minute Elias takes his cock in hand. Martin trembles, unable to do much else other than grab at the thin cotton sheets under him. Elias shifts between Martin’s knees and tuts when he looks down to Martin’s hole. He runs a finger between Martin’s cheeks and it comes away wet.

“Slick already? For me?”

Martin pants. “…Jon…for Jon.”

“Oh? You think he could satisfy you? Two Omegas and one not even vaguely interested in copulating? Hm.”

Martin has enough wherewithal to regret wanting Elias’ cock back in his office, which comes out as a disapproving keen. Elias slides one finger inside of Martin. A noise echoes around Martin. It could be a laugh. Was Elias always so menacing, or is this his doing? Martin wonders.

“I’ll have enough for both of you sad little things, don’t you fret.” Elias’ green eyes bore into Martin as he reassures him. As if _that_ was what Martin was worried about. But the implication dawns— _both of them_ —Elias means Jon.

“N-no…” Martin squirms, helpless. Elias has undone his belt and freed his cock, it’s swollen and red, his knot throbbing. Martin can’t help but part his legs.

“Such a good pet,” Elias coos, using Martin’s slick to lubricate his cock. “You’ll have a fine spare, perhaps, if I’m feeling generous enough to give you my knot.” 

When Elias pushes into him, Martin arches off the cot, pulling Elias deeper. Elias goes in easy.

  * -3:00



“Ah, Jon,” Elias remarks amiably. “You smell… wonderful.” His face is split in a voracious grin. 

Jon is frozen in the doorway. He drops the box from Artefact Storage. Folders pop out and scatter at his feet. The smell of musk and sex is heavy in the air. He was not expecting to walk in on Elias and Martin… and Martin—well, for lack of better a word, is entirely _debauched_. Slick and semen have formed visible pools around his thighs. He is trembling and straining on the sheets. He looks like he could be in pain. Jon twitches in place as a numbness spreads from his toes to his ears. It’s common knowledge amongst employees that Elias is an Alpha, but the Institute is a place of business, of academia. To think the head would take advantage of one of them—Jon is dumbfounded with disbelief.

Elias steps into his space and tips Jon’s face up. He is naked and smells of sweat, spunk, and Martin. _Martin_. Jon’s pussy throbs with the same warmth he felt before. He flushes and takes a step back, only to slip on the papers underneath him. Elias catches Jon by the collar of his button-up and brings him in by the small of his back, taking the chance to grind their groins together.

“You’re in heat, for _him_?” Elias mocks, rubbing Jon with insistence.

Jon’s eyes roll in the back of his head. The friction and swarm of smells are sending him into sensory overload. His briefs are getting soaked now, and Jon is abysmally aware that Elias’ scent is affecting him. The flush from his face is crawling down his neck, where Elias is sucking and kissing bruises on his skin. Jon is overwhelmed and out of his league. He can only wonder what’s happening with the vaguest of thoughts.

Elias presses Jon against the wall with ease, and Jon lets out a whimper. Even if he had any fight in him, Jon couldn’t stand a chance against Elias. It doesn’t help that he’s near boneless, skin burning urgent with a foreign sense of need. 

“Watch, Martin. Watch what a mess I’ll make of him,” Elias commands— _no_ , compels.

Martin sobs and pulls his hands away from his face obediently. “Elias—”

“If you’re quiet, Martin, you’ll get my knot too. Be a good pet, now.” Elias cuts him off with little sympathy.

Meanwhile, Jon’s arms hang like curtains at his side when Elias unfastens his belt and presses his mouth to his. Jon attempts to turn his head but Elias catches him by the lip, earning enough of a gasp to press his tongue past where he wants it. Sliding his hands under Jon’s undershirt, Elias cups Jon’s chest and pulls at his nipples, just two palmfuls barely visible under his sweater vest. Jon moans as they stiffen, and his head falls back against the wall. Elias’ musk is dizzying; it’s pushing Jon to his limits. His pulse is beating at a rapid pace and he’s never felt the need to be taken so badly in his life.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” Jon whispers, raw.

When Jon’s trousers and briefs fall to the ground, Elias grabs him by his slim thighs and lifts Jon out of the offending garments. Spreading his legs open, Elias drinks in the sight of Jon’s pussy. It’s lovely and open in heat for him. Elias grinds his cock against Jon’s slit, finding it dripping and coated with slick. Jon’s hips buck towards the tip sliding just outside his entrance—teasing his own little cock, which is hard and peeking out of its hood. Jon makes a low whining sound.

“It’s alright, Jon. Things are going to be so much better after I breed you, take my due, fill you full. You’ll see.”

At those words Jon snaps taut and tries to wriggle out of Elias’ grip. Elias laughs and pushes Jon’s thighs further apart, sliding his cock inside to the knot without remorse.

Jon feels his body melt with relief and he sinks down a fraction in reciprocation. He hates to admit how right it feels. His brain is hazy and the pulse of Elias’ knot inside him has him thinking maybe taking his seed is a good thing; that’s what his role as an Omega is, after all.

He breaks.

Jon wraps his legs around Elias’ waist, canting his hips forward to take him in whole. A shock jolts through Jon’s body: Elias is rubbing wonderful inside him— _deep, deep, deep._

“Yes,” Elias hisses. “You’ll be just perfect, Jon, you’ll see. A perfect Archive of all things, birthing and shaping our world.” 

Jon writhes with ecstasy, pussy pulling Elias _in and in and in_.

When Elias does give Jon his knot, spills himself all hot and plenty inside of him—the clock strikes again. The world shifts.

The 11th hour is upon them.


End file.
